Who are you?
by SpanishSahara
Summary: Au: Violet just moved into a new house, and it's a little weird. Who is this Tate fellow? Will turn very Alice Through the Looking Glass in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Hey I don't the characters and I don't claim the rights to them.

A/N: Hey Haley this is the first chapter, it's rough but I hope you like it.

Smoke filled a small dark bedroom. Soundgarden played softly through the haze, permeating the cloud and drifting about the room. Violet lay in bed, closing her eyes as she exhaled another smoke plume. The smoke put her body at ease. Ever since she'd moved into the old house, her body had felt constantly tense. Every sense was heightened.

The sense that someone is watching you? The feeling like someone is outside your bedroom door, about to turn the knob? The sensation that someone just touched your shoulder? The dread that exists when you sense that for some reason, you shouldn't be in that room or shouldn't look in that direction? Violet experienced those on an hourly basis.

Violet quietly sang along to the song. She couldn't help the creeping feeling that she shouldn't look in the corner next to her record player, so she stared up at the ceiling. She lay on her back on her bed, blowing a smoke ring into the air.

"Who are you?" She asked the ceiling? She cocked an eyebrow and nodded her head. "What do you mean by that? Explain yourself," she commanded sternly at the white paint. She listened for it's reply. It was talking stupid, not making any sense."It isn't," she counteracted the ceiling's vacuous response to her question. It fumbled on it's words, trying to explain itself. "Not a bit," she said as she took a drag and exhaled. "You!" She exclaimed, raising her voice. "Who are you?"

"I'm Tate," a disembodied voice answered by her record player. She didn't dare look. She tried to play it off, like what she was smoking was just stronger than she thought it was, that she was just baked. But she couldn't fool herself. Whatever she was smoking was not strong enough to induce voices.

She had to see him. She had to see who the voice belonged to, but that instinct to avoid the area, to deny his presence was strong. She licked her lips, readying herself to twist quickly. She breathed deeply. She counted in her head. 'one' she started to sweat. 'two' what was he? a murderer? 'three' She turned quickly, to see a tall blonde boy about her age standing, flipping through her music collection.

"What are you?" She asked immediately. It was a silly question. What would he be besides human? He had to be human. He looked human. So what if he had a strange aura about him that made him seem like something...different. He was human. He chuckled at the question.

"Well that's different than your other questions," he remarked. She grimaced. He was avoiding the question. Suddenly, it didn't seem so silly.

"I know you're not human," she said hesitantly, rising from her bed to move closer to him. He put down her Kooks album and stepped closer, his presence imposing yet somehow acquiescent and vacant. His stillness was unnerving. He stepped just inside the box of personal space everyone observed. A wild look in his eyes coupled with an impish grin made Violet's tongue go numb. He moved to whisper in her ear.

"What am I then?" He murmured. He moved behind her to brush her hair over her shoulders, but when she turned around, he was gone


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Sorry I took so long to update, and sorry it's so short. :)))**

Violet slept uneasily that night. She contemplated going to her father about a possible mental health problem, but she felt that Tate was real. She mulled over his presence as she wandered the halls of the old house. Ever since their encounter, the house seemed more alive. No, not alive, just more...inhabited. She often overheard conversations, muted things that seemed to have happened long ago: a gay couple arguing about an unfaithful boyfriend, a woman mourning for her child. But these couldn't be real of course. Violet heard once that houses contained residual energy of their residents, and that they played the memories over like old movies. She looked up at the ancient grandfather clock looming at the end of the hall. It seemed to have stopped. She walked over to the structure in a daze, voices floating in and out of her head. She felt her foot slip on the frayed carpet and swayed towards the railing. Another step and she was halfway over, suspended by a strong pair of hands on her calves. She turned her head, expecting to see her father.

"Be careful. Many people have died in this house," the blonde boy said. Her body grew cold as he pulled her back onto the ground.

"What do you mean?" She asked, continuing towards the clock. He remained in the hallway, his eyes the only thing moving.

"They've died. Their hearts stop beating. Their minds start to rot," he explained, stepping towards her, placing his hands on her hips. She stopped.

"What are you doing?" She breathed, staring into the clock face. He bent to whisper into her ear.

"Have you figured out what I am yet?" He asked, breathing into her neck. She turned to face him.

"You're a memory," she said timidly. She wasn't exactly sure why she was saying it. Normally she wouldn't have said something so silly, but with everything she had been experiencing in the house, it was the only thing she could think of. He smirked.

"Never heard it put like that before," he chuckled. "You're very unusual Violate. I like that," he commented quietly.

"How do you know my name?" She asked, startled that he knew anything about her.

"This house has eyes Violet," he said menacingly. Violet stared in wonder at how a charming boy probably her own age could speak with the wisdom and careful language of someone much older. 'Memory' she reminded herself.

"What are you doing?" She asked once again, hoping this time he would answer her. He smiled and stepped so the tips of their shoes were touching. He bent down until he was eye level.

"Waiting for you to follow me Alice," she blinked. He was gone. She faintly heard the sound of the basement door shutting


End file.
